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Month: May 2017

Coincidentally around the time my relationship with my Master began I started keeping a diary. It was really to try and develop the habit generally but it turned out to be fortuitous timing as in between the notes of people’s birthdays or appointments, there are unexpected milestones such as ‘the first time my Master fisted me’ or ‘Sir ordered me to make myself come in a public place tonight.’

This catalogue of smut amuses me immensely with its record of my training and a glimpse into what I find important enough to note in my life. It also shows me how things can change in just a year.

Because this time last year, my Master was planning the second threesome with his wife and me and I had absolutely no idea what that would lead to. I mean I knew there would be fun and orgasms but I never expected the emotions and relationship that developed from that night turning ‘the wife‘ into Princess and then into such an important person in my life.

I have a quite different relationship with both my Master and Princess. She is my girlfriend in the way that most people would imagine such a thing. We not only fuck but share that close friendship required in a relationship. My Master and I are friends too but in a very different way and I don’t wan to turn him into what I have with Princess as it works so well as it is.

And for me, the answer is definitely no. I never feel any less important because I’m not married to either of them. Other people might feel very differently but for me discovering that there is a style of polyamory known as ‘solo poly‘ was life changing. Put simply this is when you choose to be the ‘extra’ partner outside the marriage or ‘primary’ couple and aren’t seen as lesser for that role.

I never fitted well into ‘traditional’ or monogamous relationships before now. Even on the occasions when I was dating someone I really liked I felt restless and confined quite quickly and the relationships never lasted more than a few months. I assumed I was just being a bit of a diva who tired of people easily and was impossible to please or even worse, a bit of a bitch.

This latter suspicion was confirmed by the fact I felt very comfortable in the relationships I’d had with married men where I was basically the bit on the side. I disliked my part in their infidelity but couldn’t help enjoying the model of a relationship where I could see other people and continue to structure my life around myself as much as them.

My Master was completely honest with me from the moment we met that he was in a relationship and that Princess knew and agreed to him having other relationships. Slightly unfairly I took that statement with a pinch of salt as I’d heard it before with varying levels of truth to it and because I didn’t really care.

I assumed we’d have a sexually charged fling with no real emotion that would wear itself out and not really matter. So as the months passed and things were building up and it was becoming obvious that he’d been completely truthful about his relationship being open, something very odd happened and I started to be less interested in fucking any other men apart from him.

Everything I’d thought about who I was in relationships somehow seemed to have been turned on its head and I was a bit confused but extremely happy with everything. I’d always joked that my dream man lived on an oil rig and I saw him every three weeks and got my bed to myself most nights.

Then Princess came along a year ago and everything got turned upside down again and put back into place in new ways. I still wasn’t really interested in fucking other men apart from my Master (unless he was there too) but I was very interested in fucking her and getting to know her as person.

Plus I really liked this new relationship where there were three of us fitting together alongside the feeling of three different couples in the dynamic (me and my Master, Princes and my Master and me and Princess) and that sense that each of us was getting what they needed from the dynamic.

I had the full time emotions of no longer being single but with my living alone lifestyle, Princess had the female friendship and sex she’d been missing, Sir had his wife full time and the sexual enjoyment of his slut on the side. Having such clear roles that fit together so well certainly works for all of us.

I’ve certainly ended up getting exactly what I wanted but couldn’t articulate I needed because I had no idea relationships like this existed in a society that insists monogamy is the only way love can be valid. It might not work for everyone (and like all relationships, it does require work.) And trust and effort and acceptance and all the things that add to the very hot sex.

But how could I feel second best in something like that where each person’s role is just as important as the next? Here’s to many more years…

A little intellectual rigour for the Bank Holiday for you with this fantastic podcast on femme identity and how that is received in society. I listened to it today while doing some washing up and I’m sure there can’t be that many people who’ve had a personal breakthrough while washing a mug but this did that for me.

I think I’ve mentioned before that I considered myself straight before I met my Master and Princess and he often teases me how well I’ve taken to lesbianism. I had quite honestly never questioned the gender of the people I wanted to fuck before I met Princess and so much of queerness seems to be about that sense of not knowing who you were. So if I’d never doubted my love of dick, I must be straight right?

But I have from as long as I remember agonised over my identity of how I come across to people. Instinctually from early childhood I loved traditionally feminine things like make up but hated wearing the ‘good frocks’ and patent shoes I was put in for the equivalent of Sunday best.

My favourite outfit as a five year old was a pair of knickerbockers and I wanted to combine the best bits of tomboyishness like running around or being around horses with painting my nails. At eighteen I chopped all my hair off and it felt like finding myself even though I did it so I could fuck my (very handsome) hairdresser. I’ve never grown it out again in the next two decades.

80% of me loved standing out by never shaking that girly-tomboy mix off with my shaved head, perfect painted nails, eyeliner to next week, sluttiness and pairs of shorts. But the other 20% felt like I was failing at being a woman.

‘Real’ women had long blonde hair and wore knee length skirts and red lipstick and ‘no make up’ make up that looked natural. They wore high heels and floral prints and dated suitable men. And they were rewarded for it by not catcalled all the time in the street or told they were beautiful and grown up.

Any time I tried to be more like those women, I felt miserable as sin and simply unable to do it. Without my eyeliner I felt like a wall of bare plaster. When I wore heels, they were never kitten heels (I once left a pair in a cab in Glasgow no less) but four inch high gold knee boots and my skirts barely grazed my arse.

I had a job dressing other women to look ‘nice’ and stereotypically feminine and gave up it up to teach men how to wear make up, work on a gay fetish magazine and spend my time with drag queens. I just assumed I was very bad at being a grown up and having responsibilities.

And then listening to that podcast I realised that I just didn’t know I was femme and without knowing about the queer identity of femmeness, I couldn’t even think about not being straight. Slow learner as per usual.

I’d been fascinated by women for years in their femmeness and femininity and thought it was just their outfits I liked but I realised that all the women I feel some kind of pull towards are tend to me those femme women (and most of my male friends tend to be very in touch with their feminine side.)

I love to look at women with short boyish hair with heavy make up or wearing a suit with nothing underneath. I like men in tights and eyeliner. The two tie together and this identity I couldn’t outrun but felt wasn’t ‘normal’ linked the two. And finally hearing that validation of femme on that podcast made my lack of straightness make more sense than fucking Princess does in some ways.

It might be a weird way to reassess yourself but it made even more sense when I spent the evening having dinner with my Master and Princess and watching ‘But I’m a Cheerleader‘ and discovering all those close intense female friendships I had until now lacked one thing. And it wasn’t my abandoned vegetarianism…

I know it’s hard to believe that there were things I had never tried before I met my Master but it’s true. One of them was mixing pleasure and pain physically (although you could say I indulged my emotional masochism by dating an endless succession of fuckboys.)

I’d never really got the whole purpose or point of combining pain with sexual pleasure believing that it would spoil the mood and jolt me out of enjoyment like when pain in the rest of your life does. I also feared that sadists would enjoy hurting me in other ways outside the bedroom and that simply did not appeal (but was probably wise with the said fuckboys.)

I also steered away from deliberate pain as I suffer from chronic pain because of my health and frankly I’ve never found that experience erotic in anyway, mainly just irritating, unpleasant and in need of fixing with heat or painkillers.

But this article on why people enjoy masochism explains it so well I wish I’d known all these things years ago as I’ve been missing out something very fun, but it does confirm a lot of what I’ve learned over the last few years with my Master that sadism and masochism do go very well together and that sometimes a little pain adds an intensity to sex like salt adds seasoning to food.

Funnily enough despite my Master’s slightly sadistic streak, I first started to experience the joy of pain when I wasn’t even with him but following his orders as I began stretching. At first the plugs and toys he had me using were painful in that wincing, tensing, shut everything down way.

The more I opened up though, they started to have that pleasure pain enjoyment like when you stretch any other muscle and it feels like a challenge and a relief. I started to see how the two sensations went together to enhance my orgasms, especially when my Master was fisting me.

I also began to see that my Master’s sadism was confined to sex and didn’t spill out into other aspects of our relationship and that trust also enhanced the use of pain and punishment for me. Pain as intimacy rather than ostracisation is definitely much more erotic.

Quite quickly I went from ambivalent about pain to envious of when my Master punished Princess for being bratty to asking for deliberate use of pain revelling in the riding crop or a paddle he was all too happy to introduce into our scenes.

I’m still a beginner pain slut but I’m enjoying working out just how much pain and sensation my body can take and understanding that the concept of training applies to them as much as the stretching.

No one mentions how boring being ill is. All that time on your hands and no ability to fill it with fun stuff. So I was pleased when Princess set me the challenge of finding her some clothes online (the only thing I like more than orgasms is online shopping.)

With idle thumbs and an idle mind what started as a genuine conversation about sleeve length quite quickly turned into me picking out clothes Princess would look even more fuckable in and mentally dressing her to promptly undress her again.

When I shared this style of shopping with her, she agreed she’d look excellent in a white trouser suit with nothing underneath except a lace bralet and a wet cunt. I couldn’t decide which appealed more, the flash of naked chest or the thought of sliding her trousers off to fuck her.

Either way I was delighted that my filthy mind is returning even if my libido is still missing in action and the only thing I’m doing in bed is sleeping. In fact it was returning enough that I started imagining how my Master would look in quite a few of the outfits too.

I have seen him in a suit before and he wears it well but I realised I’ve never seen him in drag close up only photographs and my mind was certainly very interested in what it would be like to have him showing his legs off while giving me orders in person.

I never did find Princess her suit because I had to go and have a little lie down to recover…

I’ve never been a huge fan of the Kit Kat. They always seem like the chocolate bar trying too hard to be a treat when you could have something more exciting to me (and I miss the foil because I’m old.)

Yet yesterday’s court ruling about not being able to trademark their shape has tickled me by introducing me to an excellent and highly relevant joke about them. I paraphrase since I suspect the original name used was to mock them not applaud them. But I’m happy to put myself in the joke ‘what’s the difference between Candi and a Kit Kat?’

I’m having one of my periodic relapses of my chronic illness so I’m likely to spend the next few weeks primarily in bed for boring resting reasons rather than hot sex and my libido will have booked itself a spa break elsewhere rather than be noticeable to me. All very dull but a recurrent part of my life I can’t avoid.

It happened that my relapse came on over last weekend when Princess made me come so hard and intensely in quick succession it made me need to lie down and sleep it off before I could enjoy her cunt in return which is an excellent memory to tide me over for a while at least.

It still seemed a shame when we spent some time together over the week that I couldn’t enjoy fucking her due to my feebleness but I did enjoy lying in bed watching her moving around and being naked in non sexual ways and realising how much I just enjoy her body because it’s beautiful and it’s hers.

This time last year, I hadn’t begun my relationship with Princess properly and was still telling my Master that I was 100% straight (that first threesome we’d all had was just a very enjoyable one off at that stage) and I was still thinking that I needed the feel of a male body to turn me on sexually.

I could not have imagined that a year later I’d have such pleasure in so many ways from a woman’s body and never once thought to compare and contrast it to the feel of man. It helps that Princess is gorgeous of course with a slutty mind you couldn’t help but fall for and that cunt is such fun to play with.

But I’m definitely converted to the joys of women as long as it’s Princess. I couldn’t be happier that my Master allows me to share her like he does…

My Master was away on a stag do at the weekend and he came back both horny and full of ideas. I already knew about his liking for obviously fake tits and body modification but even I was surprised by his latest thought on new piercings.

It’s no coincidence that the collar he chose to denote ownership of me was a clit piercing as it combines form and function and I know he likes my other piercings too. But I was naively unaware that there are other female genital piercings until he mentioned them this morning.

Labial piercings have the effect of decoration and helping to stretch my cunt further and both of those things interest me enough that I’m spending my Sunday evening researching it online.